Page 10 of Enter if you Dare: Part Three

Cipher

The music box has been testing me. I have added a mechanism that allows a carousel to pop up when it’s opened, but the spring sticks and it’s not how I want it to be.

It’s not a problem I can’t solve—it just requires patience, and that has been harder than usual to come by this week. I set down the piece and roll my neck, adding in some breathing exercises Noa of all people showed me to reset my aura, whatever that means.

Noa left for the mainland a few hours ago to get supplies. He needed something to keep himself busy. Noa processes things by talking them through, then when there are no words left to say, he needs to move. So I gave him a list of things that I didn’t exactly need just yet, but it gave him something to keep busy.

As I pick up the piece I was working on and turn it over in my hands, I examine the spring—it’s tiny and the whole reveal relies on it. I have been trying over and over again to get it to work, but there has to be something I’m missing. Guess I won’t figure it out today, though. Noa told me that there is a saying: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome is the definition of insanity. Then he laughed and said that none of us here are really sane anyway.

Cave is the one who calms me because he needs no words; his presence alone is all that is needed. I find it easiest to exist around him. He knows how important this box is, as we plan to give it to Valli. We have a surprise for her as her Christmas present, and without the box it will be spoiled.

It’s been four days since Valli saw Cave, and she is breaking inside but trying to put on a brave face—we all are. Yet she has a determination unlike anything I have seen before. Valli has always had to be strong for those around her and unlearning that will be hard for her. But she has us now, so she doesn’t have to be strong all the time; she can break down if she needs to, and we will be there to catch her every time. I haven’t said anything because there are no words that will change how her trauma presents, so all we can do is show her with our actions, and she will learn in time that she can rely on us. Trust is not given; it’s earned.

I pick up the music box and smile; I have restored it to perfect working condition, and I know the issue is that I am adding a part that was not made for it.

We have also been fixing up an old house in the residential area, and everyone on the island has been helping, especially Nails. His real name is Rhett, but we’ve called him Nails ever since he nailed his own hand to a beam that he was fixing a few years ago after he asked Vero for help. He now knows better than to ask Vero for anything.

It’s a nice house and has been sitting empty for two years. I know we could stay out here, but I would lose my sanity continuing to have people looking over my shoulder all day while I work. Nixie signed off on it a few days before Cave was taken away. Valli deserves a real house, not a run -down, drafty shed full of bits and pieces that I will never throw away—you never know when you’ll need a jar of bolts or a drawer of screws.

The music box will be finished by the time Cave comes home, and I will work around the clock to make it happen.

I have learned to hear footsteps coming since being with Cave, as it makes it easier to multitask. Valli is back, and she pauses at the door just for a second, then walks through.

I glance up and she smiles, but it’s forced and sets off alarm bells in my head. Noa’s oversized hoodie swallows her tiny frame, and her hair is piled on top of her head.

She leans against the workbench beside me, close enough that her arm touches mine. She doesn’t say anything, and I love that about her; when she comes into my space, she can fall into silence with me. It’s nice knowing that simply being close to me is enough for her.

I turn to face her.

“How’s it coming along?” she asks, knowing when I move my attention away from what I’m working on it’s a sign I’m ready to engage.

“Slowly,” I say, picking up the spring. “This tiny thing is giving me hell.”

She leans in to look at it, little lines creasing between her brows. “What does it do? The box, I mean.”

“It will play a melody, and it opens.”

I want to slap myself—of course the box will open.

“To what?”

I gaze up at her and smile. “That part isn’t ready yet.”

I have kept the carousel that has been hand-crafted hidden. I don’t want her to see that part until I paint it, so I need Noa’s help for that part, to keep her away from the shed for a few hours.

“It’s really pretty,” she says, running her finger along the box. “Nixie sent me home. Apparently, my staring into the void was distracting her, and there is nothing for me to do once the rain starts.”

Just as she says the words, a light rain hits the shed roof.

“I can’t stop thinking about his face,” she confesses, her eyes turning glassy. “The way he looked at me before I left. I know he understood what I said to him, but I hate not having firm confirmation. Then I wonder what it’s doing to him being back there in that place and I can’t . . .” Her voice wobbles and she inhales deeply, trying to compose herself.

When I see all her walls coming back, fighting to lock into place, I take her hand in mine.

“I can’t do anything to fix it, but I showed up for an hour and tried to hold myself together, so he didn’t have to worry about me.”

“Come here,” I say, pulling her into me until she straddles my waist, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight to my chest. “I’ve got you. You’re allowed to feel like that, but I know Cave, and if you asked him to do something, he will. He’s a stubborn guy.”

She sniffles, and I realize she is crying, so I kiss her head. “You don’t always have to be strong. I will always hold you when you need me to.”